Failed Minister
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Cornelius has no choice now but to resign. He can only hope that the next Minister can clean up his mess.


**Written For**

 **Around the Globe Challenge (St Michaelis Church, Hamburg: Use an important building of the Wizarding world as your setting)**

 **Gringotts Prompt Bank:**

 **Misc. HP Locations: Minister for Magic's Office**

* * *

Oh, what a fool he's been. He's tried to deny it. You-Know-Who couldn't possibly be back.

But he's suspected it for so long. He can't say that he's been blind. Only unwilling to see it.

Cornelius strides through the Ministry, trying to keep his head high.

It isn't easy. The shame and humiliation are heavy weights upon his shoulders, and he feels his posture slip. He is hardly a Minister for Magic now. Just a foolish man who can no longer cling to desperate hope.

"Are the rumors true, Minister?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asks, stopping him before he can enter his office.

Kingsley. Kingsley should have been Minister. Not him. Kingsley is brave and good. He would have believed the Potter boy. He would have done something rather than stick his head in the sand and refused to believe.

"I'm afraid so, Kingsley," Cornelius sighs. "I plan to write my resignation speech now."

What else can he do? He's failed to keep the Wizarding world safe. How many lives have been lost because of his denial? How much more innocent blood will be shed because of a stubborn old man?

Kingsley nods, resting a hand on his shoulder. There's something in his eyes. Pity, maybe. Cornelius hardly wants it.

Nor does he deserve it. Why pity the man who has allowed the darkest of wizards to gain power? Why pity the man who has brought about such bad things?

"You weren't always right," Kingsley says evenly. "But you did what you thought was right. I'm sure that counts for something."

Something, maybe, but not much. What he'd thought was right has had terrible consequences. What he'd thought was right has put things in a terrible mess.

"You're too kind, Kingsley," Cornelius sighs. "Maybe you'd be better suited for this position. Merlin knows I'm not cut out for it anymore. Maybe I never was."

At first, perhaps, when he could play the role of brave. When he could bring hope to such a dark world. Now, he's done more harm than good.

"I don't think I'd like the responsibility," Kingsley says softly, shaking his head.

And Cornelius doesn't like the responsibility either. So much pain, so much suffering. How much of it could have been prevented if he'd just listened to Dumbledore and Harry?

"No, it is quite a burden," Cornelius agrees, opening his office door. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Kingsley is quick to leave, and Cornelius can hardly blame him. Cornelius Fudge, the failed Minister. He doubts anyone would want to stay around him for too long.

Cornelius paces the length of his office, knowing it will be the last time he can call it his own. He doesn't deserve the title. He doesn't deserve to see the admiration in others' eyes.

With a sigh, he seats himself behind his desk, pulling out his quill and dipping it in the ink pot. No words come to him. What can he say that could even begin to express how terribly he's failed them all?

There's a knock at the door. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Rufus, I'm sure you've heard the rumors," Cornelius says, setting his quill to the side.

"I had hoped they were just that. But if you're addressing them, I assume there's some truth to them," Rufus guesses, folding his arms over his chest. "I can also assume this is hardly a social call."

"Hardly," Cornelius agrees. "It is time that I pass the position on to someone who can do it justice. A year ago, you would never have been my first choice, which is exactly why I think you're perfect now."

"I'm not sure that I understand."

"They need someone who is fierce. Not a blind fool. Perhaps you can't right my wrongs. I've left quite a mess for you. I do apologize for that."

"Minister, I'm honored, but-"

"You can't refuse. Please. The people need a leader. A true leader."

Rufus gives a small bow of his head. "Then I will take it."

With a sigh, Cornelius picks his quill up again. "Thank you."

Perhaps it is too late to fix things. But, Cornelius prays, perhaps it can't get much worse.


End file.
